Amid a pile of grading, an irrational, irrepressible, maybe momentary giddiness, from two sunny days in a row in this winter-gray city and a beloved name on a return address in the mails
Amid a pile of grading, an irrational, irrepressible, maybe momentary giddiness, from two sunny days in a row in this winter-gray city and a beloved name on a return address in the mails
Dear, Dear Laura B.... I am no longer on social media (FB or otherwise) and I'm so very, very glad you cross posted this. It is good to "hear" your voice, friend. And the photos are stunning!
That cathedral pic is as beautiful as your writing here today, Laura.
"Someone else's perfume in a doorway, like passing through an invisible hippie bead curtain."
Classic you. Which I love. :)
Dear, Dear Laura B.... I am no longer on social media (FB or otherwise) and I'm so very, very glad you cross posted this. It is good to "hear" your voice, friend. And the photos are stunning!
I loved this so much. Your writing is so sensory and beautiful. It reminded me of the food-writing class you taught several years ago.
Dear Laura, belated yet brimming-over thanks for this spirited verbal smorgasbord, arrayed like a feast!—my every sense freshly awakened . . .